


Love and Necromancy

by Corcalamus



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:18:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corcalamus/pseuds/Corcalamus
Summary: Oralee is a paladin and Mikah is a necromancer. Things can get tricky and hilarious in equal measure.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Love and Necromancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oralee is a paladin and Mikah is a necromancer. Things can get tricky and hilarious in equal measure.

**Part 1 - On the Road**

Oralee sat by the gnarled oak tree reading her book by moonlight.

She was glad of the peace to catch up on reading, after taking down ‘The Evil Necromancer’ in the town of Pitlochry. She had been showered with gold and had lived at the local inn free of charge for the month since her valliant destruction of the ‘Horned Devil’.

She sighed, setting her book down, looking at the mound of earth she had buried the necromancer beneath. She mused that the worst thing about being married to a necromancer was when he was inevitably outed in whatever village he had settled in.

Of course, being the ‘Hero’ of the country she had to go in and kill the ‘vile’ creature.

And to make matters worse, he was always salty about it.

The earth began to move and she set her book aside. The first time he resurrected, she had helped to dig him up but he had complained that it ruined the moment so now, she let him crawl out on his own.

And maybe, sometimes, she put a few extra big rocks in the pile of earth just to piss him off.

And there he was, crawling out of his grave for the fourth time this year. The moonlight sparkling on his white skin and silver horns. It would have been beautiful except for one small detail. She hid her smirk behind her book as he stretched and found his feet. She felt his eyes upon her.

Well…. eye.

“Did you have to stab me through the eye? Do you know how long it takes for eyes to regrow?”

“It was the quickest way to do it,” she said, still hiding behind her book. He hadn’t noticed yet.

She heard him sigh and start to dust himself off. The dusting abruptly stopped and he exclaimed in a high pitched, horrified voice.

“Why are my resurrection robes PINK!?”

Oralee looked over her book at him and she couldn’t help her laughter. There he was, Mikha, Lord of the Arcane, Master of the Bones, Keeper of Lore, dressed in fluorescent pink robes.

“Not sure, I mean I did tell you not to put your red sacrificial robes with the whites. Not my fault you don’t listen to me.”

He pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose. 

“How did you get caught this time?” Oralee knew fine well how he had been caught, she just liked to hear him try to weasel out of it.

“Oh - um, I’m not sure,” he made his way over to the tree where Oralee was still seated, to the backpack of supplies she had brought with her. He opened the satchel, pulling out some dried meat to eat. He was always hungry after resurrection.

“The townspeople told me that you murdered the mayor, ripped out his bones and made his bones dance around the town square singing ‘I am a knobhead’.”

He paused while eating, looking thoughtfully at Oralee with his one golden eye. “Hm… that does sound like something I would do.”

“Why?” Oralee asked in exasperation. This was the fourth town he’d been caught in this year and it was still only spring.

“He murdered his wife, blamed her lover and had him hanged.”

Oralee sighed, putting her book in the backpack. “No evidence I suppose?” She asked as she stood, shouldering the backpack.

“Not a shred,” Mika said, finishing his meat, dusting off his hands.

Oralee knew that was what had attracted him to this particular town. He always had a sense for when injustice had been committed but as this was the fourth settlement he had been murdered in, they would need to go east to get to new territory for a while.

“Come on princess,” she said, walking to her horse. “We should get going before someone sees you.” She got up onto Alys as Mikah fixed the grave so that it wouldn’t be obvious that he’d crawled out of it. He ran his hand through his hair, knocking loose some dust before huffing as he looked down at his robes.

She heard him muttering as he conjured his horse, “Need to get the witches to make me some new robes… doesn’t realise how expensive.... Unicorn hair thread is rare…”

As Mikah climbed onto Void, his rather dead skeletal horse, they made their way towards the road. She knew from experience that to other eyes, Mikah would look like a noble riding on a fine horse and she would look like his bodyguard. It was a disguise they had used often and as Oralee was the darling of the continent, no one ever questioned her.

Just as well, she thought, as they sent their horses into a trot otherwise this would be a very awkward and dangerous trip and she didn’t fancy resurrecting the fool for a fifth time in three months.

“Where to?” Mikah asked.

“East, other than that, I’m not sure,” Oralee said and she turned their trot to a canter. 

The quicker they got where they were going, the better.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They sat down at a secluded table in the Inn of Stars just outside the port town of Ardvasar. It had been several days since the resurrection, Mikah had purchased some new clothes along the way but he was still complaining. Not so much about the robes, about the eye patch he had been forced to wear to hide the still re-growing eye.

“It makes me look uncouth, like a common pirate.”

“Instead of a necromancer? What’s worse?” Oralee asked as she set wine down in front of him and the beer for herself. 

“Excuse you,” Mikah sniffed, tilting his head up unhappily. “I at least bathe.”

She had to give him that.

“Why are we here anyway?” 

“I’m sick of being on the road and we need a place to stay.” Oralee sipped her beer. It was an unlikely port town to find help in, but she’d had a tip a day before about a card shark in the area and she had a good idea of who that might be.

And right on cue, noise erupted in the corner of the bar.

“Must’ve been cheatin’!”

“There ain’t no way he can win twelve games in a row!” A second, angrier voice supplied.

“It’s ‘they’ not ‘he’,” a familiar voice corrected. Oralee glanced at the corner where the eruption of noise had originated. “And do not be a sore loser, it’s not my fault you all have tells that even a blind man can see. Get better and I shall endeavour not to wipe the floor with you next time.”

“Ludoj!” Mikah exclaimed, standing and flinging his arms wide.

Ludoj grinned but not too widely as they made their way towards Oralee and Mikah’s table. “Darlings!” Mikah and Ludoj embraced before sitting down. The fat coin purse caught the attention of one of the barmaids and she walked over to them.

“Can I get you all somethin’ to eat?”

Oralee nodded. “Whatever’s good,” she set her own rather ample coin purse on the table. In these parts ‘Whatever’s good’ was code for ‘Not Roadkill’ and showing the purse meant they were likely to get something at least halfway decent.

“Okay… and you two?” She looked between Mikah and Ludoj. From the look in her eyes she was hoping to get a good tip tonight. Barmaids in these parts were often single mothers. Lucky to get by with the tips from the bar and maybe a night spent with a patron to pay their way.

“I shall have a sherry,” Ludoj said. “And I smell onions, do you make onion rings?”

“We sure do.”

“And what are they fried in?”

“What everything else is fried in.”

Ludoj wrinkled their nose at that and sighed. “I shall just have the potato soup.”

Mikah ordered the same and the barmaid was on her way.

“So what is everything fried in?” Mikah asked.

“Lard,” Ludoj said. “Everything in this province is fried or cooked or coated in pig lard. It’s revolting.”

It had been a couple of years since they had seen Ludoj, they were still as eccentric as ever. As Mikah and Ludoj talked, Oralee relaxed. Even though she could feel the eyes of the card table on their backs, she knew they’d be safe. It was odd to find Ludoj in a port town though, usually Ludoj kept to the countryside away from harbors. 

Less likely to be hunted by the Knights of the Holy order when hiding in a larger city away from port.

“I’m only here for a few weeks you understand,” Ludoj said. “I bought a ship, she’s due to dock this week. I am only passing time until that happens truth be told.” 

Their meals arrived quickly, Oralee was unsurprised to see hers was whatever good roast meat they’d had that day with a selection of their nicest looking vegetables. The soup looked as good as soup ever did but Ludoj gave a squeak of happy surprise as the barmaid put their meal down.

“Onion rings… baked onion rings Anne you’re a legend!”

Anne smiled at Ludoj. “You’ve been real nice to me this week, thought it was the least I could do.”

Mikah gently touched the barmaid’s arm. “We appreciate it, it’s very difficult to get vegetarian fare in this region.” Oralee knew what he was doing, he couldn’t leave things alone. As the barmaid walked off Mikah wrote down on the paper in front of him. Both Ludoj and Oralee read it silently.

‘34, 4 children, no husband, pimp is at the card table. Not a good bean.’

Oralee and Ludoj looked over at the card table where they’re rather lovely barmaid had walked. One of the men spoke with her, they saw her shoulders slump and she made her way upstairs only to be followed a few minutes later by one of the patrons at the table.

They looked at each other and Ludoj leaned back, now having finished their meal. They delicately dabbed their mouth with their napkin and looked at Oralee. “It’s been a month since I indulged, I’m about due.”

That settled it, Oralee thought as they settled their tab at the bar.

Justice would be served tonight.


End file.
